


You Can Sleep Now

by oleanderflowers



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, But the characters aren't actually dead, Canon Compliant, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Isolation, Memory Loss, Season/Series 10, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020, implied/referenced psychological torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:01:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26903311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oleanderflowers/pseuds/oleanderflowers
Summary: "The unit he’s kept in is cold. There are heating systems in his armor, but his body feels numb most of the time. Frost has collected all over the glass floor in the small, grey room that he stays in day after day after day.His mind feels numb, too. There are names and faces flashing inside his helmet, almost indistinguishable through the tears. He thinks that his name is Alpha, or Church, but he can’t really say."Written for prompt 8 of Whumptober 2020 with the prompts "Don't Say Goodbye" and "Isolation", set during Alpha's time in the Mother of Invention during season 10.
Relationships: Leonard L. Church | AI Program Alpha/Agent Texas | AI Program Beta
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	You Can Sleep Now

**Author's Note:**

> The dialogue is from the episode the event takes place in with one or two little changes, so yeah I didn't write the dialogue but I wrote everything else!

The unit he’s kept in is cold. There are heating systems in his armor, but his body feels numb most of the time. Frost has collected all over the glass floor in the small, grey room that he stays in day after day after day.

His mind feels numb, too. There are names and faces flashing inside his helmet, almost indistinguishable through the tears. He thinks that his name is Alpha, or Church, but he can’t really say. 

What he does know is that Agent Texas is dead. Agent Washington is dead. Agent Nevada, Agent Michigan, Agent Colorado, all dead because of him. Because he made a mistake, or didn’t up the security system, or was just not good enough. 

Why Tex? He loves ( _loved_ ) her. He thinks of her and he sees strength, steel fists and caring eyes, complaints of, “ _Stop it, you’re going to make me late_ ” ringing in his ears. The Director had told him that Texas is dead, gone, all because of his stupid fucking mistakes.

It’s lonely here. _He_ ’s lonely here. He always feels like there’s something missing from his mind. He knows the agents, he knows Tex, he knows the Director and the Counselor, but not himself. Why does he feel so empty in here? Why does he stare at his reflection in the frosted glass and see no familiarity in the pale blue helmet?

Shudders wrack his body but he can’t cry. It’s been hours, or days, or years since the Director gave him the news of Tex and Washington and something else was taken from him. What was it? Now he’s scared, because he can’t remember the name of the first agent who died because of him and what if he’s losing the only memories he can hold close?

Texas ( _or was it Allison?_ ), a little girl with red hair, a dog, a small house and a message that tore it all apart. That’s what lays in the back of his helmet. He is still pretty sure he’s made of numbers and code, made from the Director, but who is he?

He doesn’t need to sleep, not really. He can power down and rest for a while, but what if something happens while he’s not around? What if security fails again and this time it’s Agent Carolina or Agent North Dakota who dies? So he stays alert, running algorithms in his head and waiting, always waiting.

The next day, he can’t remember who Texas is.

He can’t remember who Washington is, or Carolina, or _NevadaMichiganColoradoArkansas_ \- He only knows that he’s an AI and he’s here to help the Director. 

He never really noticed how blue his unit is. There are blue lights on the wall, washing the metallic room in a nice color. Things look like they’re constantly moving outside his unit, outside this tiny room he calls his own. Is it his? He can’t tell if he hates it or not.

Out of everything, he’s tired. It’s funny; he didn’t think AIs could get tired. But his eyelids always feel heavy and all of his being just wants to curl up and get some sleep. Every time he closes his eyes, though, a sense of panic courses through him and little flashes of memories he just can’t reach start appearing. 

He goes through the things he does know about himself besides the two obvious. 1. He likes the color blue. 2. Maybe if he thinks very hard, he can remember more. 3. He hates goodbyes.

A couple days pass by before his peace is disrupted by alarms and a crashed ship. He doesn’t know what’s happening, as per usual, and can’t bring himself to care. So it comes as a surprise when a woman with black armor shows up in his unit and gently says, “Hey there?”

He turns, head tilted in curiosity. He likes her voice. “Oh, uh, hello. Who are you?”

“You don’t know me?” the woman asks, and he pauses. Is he supposed to? That’s not good.

“Oh, sorry. I’m just… tired. I'm really tired. My name is… it’s-” He doesn’t know anything these days, it seems.

The woman just looks at him and nods. “Your name is Alpha. You’re Church.”

Oh. Church. Yeah, that sounds right. “Church,” he echoes, “that’s me. And you are?”

“Let’s just say we used to be together.” She sounds sad as she speaks to him.

All he can reply with is, “Okay.”

“I need you to come with me,” she says all of the sudden, and he blinks in surprise.

“Oh, I don’t think I can, but thanks. I think I’m just gonna stay here, you know, and rest.” It’s nice in this blue room. This woman seems nice, too, but he thinks that if he leaves, he’ll disappear.

“You don’t want to leave?”

“I just… I don’t think I can,” he repeats, exhaustion filtering through his voice.

She shakes her head a little bit and lets out a sad sigh. “Okay. Maybe you just rest then.”

Rest. That sounded good. “Um, what was your… your name? What was it?”

“It’s Texas.”

He feels like that name should mean something to him, but it doesn’t. “Texas? Like the state?” he inquires, smiling slightly at the shape of the state forming in his mind. That’s something he knows.

“Yeah.”

“Pretty funny name for a girl."

“Yeah, well, Church is a funny name for a guy,” she shoots back, and her voice is full of an affection that makes his heart ache.

“I guess you’re right.”

She hesitates, casting her helmeted gaze down. “Y’know, you gave me this name.”

That’s weird. He doesn’t even know this woman, let alone if he named her. “I did? I wonder why I did that.”

“Maybe if you think about it, it’ll come to you.”

“Yeah. Hey, uh, I’m gonna rest now. But thanks for coming by.” He smiles tiredly and can almost see her smile back. 

“Okay, you rest,” she responds, and a moment of silence passes before she continues. “Church?”

“Yeah?”

“Goodbye.”

That word hurts him. So many hidden emotions crammed into that one word. “Huh. I don’t know why but… I hate goodbyes.”

“Oh. Me too.”

He shrugs. “Okay. See you, crazy state name lady.”

Referring to her as ‘crazy’ is another question within itself. He doesn’t think she’s crazy; she’s only been kind to him this whole time. Maybe it’s the fact that she showed up in his little blue room where he was all alone and offered him an escape. Maybe it’s the fact that he should know her and her state name. He can’t shove all of that into words, though, so ‘crazy’ suffices.

“Goodbye,” she says again, and disappears.

And for the first time in forever, he knows that his name is Church, or Alpha, and he closes his eyes. Another voice rings out, one telling him, “ _Don’t worry, you’ll see me again… Don’t say goodbye. I hate goodbyes._ ” He finally sleeps, finally lets his fractured soul rest.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s not alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeehaw
> 
> Title is from the poem "Straw House, Straw Dog" by Richard Siken because that poem hurts.


End file.
